All Around The World
by BrittanaFicFic
Summary: Genderswap. Male!Brittany. Brett Samuel Pierce has been asked to be a dancer on a 8 month world tour of one Miss Santana Lopez. And so what if he has a few pictures saved in his phone of her. And maybe he has some of her songs. And maybe he sorta kinda has a bit of a huge crush. So. What.
1. Chapter 1

Santana Lopez walked through South Medows dance studio, her assistant trailing a few steps behind her. Santana walked with an aura of confidence surrounding her, and as someone who has just gone to number one in 12 countries, it's well fitted. About two years ago the Latina burst into the music world, due to one of her songs of her LP being featured on an episode of 90210. The following week her song went straight to the Number 2 spot and her album entered the iTunes top 10. Since then it's been work nonstop.

The young starlet decided about a month ago that it's time for her to do a world tour, to celebrate the release of her sophomore album. So she's at South Medows today to observe her dancers, and to approve the routines. Then learning them will start tomorrow; something Santana isn't looking forward too. She may have a kick ass voice, but she also has 20 left feet, not just 2.

"So how many dancers are in there, Perry?" She spoke to her assistant as they stopped outside the door to studio 2.

The young man quickly scattered through the iPad he held in his hand, repeatedly swiping his hands across the screen. "Ummmm, there's 6 girls and 4 boys. Te-"

"If you really tell me what six plus four is I really will slap you silly." Santana Interrupted him with a dry tone.

"Yes ma'am." He quipped.

The brunette rolled her eyes before pushing the door open, ears perking up instantly at the sound of the heavy bass coming from the speakers.

"Santana!" She heard a voice yell from the back of the room. "Alright guys, take 5. Nice job." Santana watched as the Chinese man that shouted her name jogged over with a large smile.

"Ummmm...hi?" Santana questioned with a frown, not having been told she was meeting someone.

"...hi!"

"...hello?" Santana asked again, confused by the man who was just throwing words at her.

"I'm mike? Head choreographer? They told me I was too introduce you to the team?" Mike's eyes started to dim at the confusion on her face.

Game time Sanatana, put those acting lessons into act. "Oh right, yeah! They told me about a Mike!" They never told her about a Mike.

"Sweet! Right well, wanna come sit down whilst I talk you through the routines you'll be taking part in?" He offered, friendly smile back on his face.

Santana nodded at the man and motioned for him to show the way, giving Santana the perfect opportunity to have herself a little look see at the eye candy that will be dancing around her for 8 months.

_boring, too skinny, man boobs, fake boobs, weird ass hair that can be seen from space, gayness that can be seen from space. _She glanced her eyes over each dancer until it reached the naked back with a head full of shaggy blonde hair. From her position she could see a tattoo covering his right bicep but was too far away to be able to say what it is.

Realising that she was not at all being discrete with her leering she stunned her head away from the delicious back.

"So, in your honour, and mainly so you can learn everyone's names, or at least know which dancer you need to be by, everyone's got shirts with their last names on!" Mike told her as he pulled out a chair at a small desk in the corner if the room.

Santana nodded, impressed at the thinking ahead. Now Santana couldn't tell you from here what Mike said to her, he was a nice guy, but sweet baby Jesus he babbled the hell on. Instead, Santana used this time to perve on her delicious back man. Pouting when he started to pull a black shirt over his head. 'Pierce' in big block letters in the back.

"So how many routines will I be in, exactly?" Santana wondered out loud. Brown eyes searching around the studio.

"Well there's 23 songs in the whole set, so we were thinking maybe 11? Maybe 9 on smaller shows?" Mike proposed.

Santana didn't vocally respond but instead nodded in approval.

Mike continued, "the studio decided that since your songs are almost story like, it'd be an idea for you to have a...main dancer of sorts, I guess."

Santana's ears perked up at this. The opportunity to dance with hot bodies every week? Don't mind if aunty Tana helps herself.

Mike grinned to himself at the singers new founded interest. "We were gonna pair you up with each person and see who you have good chemistry with...but judging from your constant, completely obvious leering, it looks like you've taken a shine to someone already." Mike threw in a wink for good measure.

Nice, Santana, nice. And her reply? The trade mark Lopez glare.

-•—-

Brett Samuel Pierce has always been dancing. To him it was his happy place. The place where he could escape everything with simple movements, putting on a complex show. Did he get bullied for it? He grew up on the wrong side of Brooklyn, answer that question yourself. His dad is in the army, currently completing his 7th tour in Iraq. The elder man wasn't exactly thrilled when his oldest son told him he wanted to dance, but still, Brett is his son and he'll support him.

His mum always repeated that it was just a stage. That he'd grow out of it. But when Brett started going for serious auditions, she knew something was different. So she supported her son, she wouldn't encourage it, but she'd happily watch her son dance.

But then there was the person who meant more to him than anyone; his little sister Kelly, his number one fan. Even when they were kids, Kelly would always watch him dance, or tell him if he sucked at doing something. Even now at 21 and 18, she still came to all of his gigs, and would help him practice. She was his best friend.

So when Brett got the call for a back up dancer on a world tour. Like, a proper World tour. The first thing he did was ring home. It was his chance to make his family proud.

Now, when he found out it was on a certain young stars tour, who he just happened to have a few photos saved of her on his phone, well you can his face.

The atmosphere changed immediately when Santana Lopez walked into the dance studio, it went from joking and light hearted, to down to buissnes. be hen Mike called 5, Brett immediately stripped off his shirt in order to try and cool down. And yes, maybe he enjoyed the feeling of a new pair of eyes looking at him. He's a male. Sue him.

"Brett dude, I swear to god all my blood has rushed south and I can't get it back to my head, because holy shit dude, Santana Lopez? Fucking boner inducing!" Carson, one if Brett's fellow dancers in the team whispered as Brett brushed invincible dirt on his shirt.

Brett scoffed at his friend, "You have such a way with words, man. Seriously, I'm touched...just like you wish you were by Santana."

Carson let out a loud laugh at the blonde man before punching him light heartedly in the shoulder. "I'm just saying, if she wants to loosen up a bit after her shows, I've got something that can help!"

"Is it drugs?"

The shorter male looked at Brett in confusion, "no man, my dick?"

Before Brett could reply, a familiar voice shouted his name. The blonde turned on his heel to see Mike waving him over to the table that him and Santana were currently sitting at.

_alright now Pierce. Play it cool. she's just a girl. Sorta. _

Making his way over to the corner of the room, Brett discretely sniffed himself. Well aware that he'd been dancing for the past 3 hours and probably didn't smell too fresh.

"Alright, Santana, this is Brett Pierce. We think we're gonna have him as your main dancer. He's the best there is." Mike spoke purely to Santana.

Santana turned in her game face. "It's nice to meet you, Mr Pierce." She husked out.

Brett could practically feel his face turning red. In fact he's pretty sure if youtput a giant beet root next to him right now, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Y'know. Minus the hair.

"It's Brett!" He blurted out. "I mean...nobody calls me Mr Pierce. Well you can if you want, I guess? Or you could call me Samuel...but I don't see why you'd want too because, uhhhh, nobody does. People call me Brett...so it would be super cool if you'd call me that...because its my name."

Santana didn't know what to make off Brett, but she knew two things already. One, he has a rockin' bod'. And two, he made her laugh. "Brett it is then?" She offered, happy that her response seemed to put a large smile on his face.

"Awesome." He whispered to himself.

Mike watched the whole interaction with a smile on his face. Noting how different the pair were, polar Opposites if you will. "Okay then...uhhhh, I'm just gonna go ahead and get a glass of water. Excuse me."

The duo stood in silence for a few seconds, both silently trying to study each other.

"You're really short!" Was the conversation gold that Brett blurted out. It was then that Santana took note of how much she had to crane her neck up.

"Maybe you're just really tall?"

"Nahhhh, I'm pretty sure you're a short ass!"

"Just because I don't have legs that are freakishly long, doesn't mean I'm short!"

Brett paused for a moment, struggling to hold in a laugh at how easy it is to wind her up, "ummm, it sorta does?"

Santana went to argue back before rethinking her sentence. "ok no, I worded that badly. But the point is you have long ass legs and a long ass body and you're just an ass!"

"Is that how you write songs? Lyrical genius like that?" Brett asked with a grin.

"You know what?" Santana paused to smile at the male, "I like you, Brett Pierce."

-••-

"So how long are you giving them?" Mike whispered to Quinn, one if the dancers on the team.

The blonde took a moment to think of her answer. "Y'know what? I think they'd be good together."

Mike snapped his head to the blonde with furrowed eye brows, "Serious? They're complete opposites. It'll be like a ticking bomb."

Quinn leg out a small laugh at her friends dramatics. "Yeah but you know that thing, opposites attract right? Look at it this way; you've got Brett, he's in his own little happy world and cares about everything he gets involved in 100%. Then you've got Santana, who by from what I've heard, needs someone like that in her life! Someone to take care for her and someone she can be a normal person with. You know Brett doesn't care about getting famous or rich or crap like that, the boy just wants to dance. They'd be good. Brett would bring a bit of carelessness to Santana's world, and Santana would bring a bit of reality to his."

Mike pursed his lips as he mulled over Quinn's comment. If there's one thing that's obvious, it's that the next 8 months are going to bring more than a few surprises.

**Just a lil FYI here, this story is gonna be quite dialog heavy. Just a warning in case you don't like that. **

**So let me know what you guys think. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

"Satan, seriously I can only say this a number of times before I get bored. You. Cannot. Sleep. With. Him." One Kurt Hummel repeated to his friend over dinner.

Ever since Santana met up with the flamboyant man the only thing she's talked about is jumping a certain blonde boy's bones. "Kurt I don't think you understand what I'm saying here, he has such a pretty face!"

"Yes, which means he's probably innocent! You'd ruin him Santana."

"Mehhh mehhh because you'd ruin him Santana," The brunette did a poor impression if her friend before taking a bite of a fry that was on her plate. "I'm a woman, Kurt, I have needs!"

Kurt continued to stare at his friend, reaching his hand up to his hair to remove a piece of chewed up potato from his hair that he's sad to say same from Santana's mouth. "That's yet to be proven. Plus, you have really bad taste."

Santana's eyes formed a glare as Kurt listed of names of her apparent bad taste. Well that was until she remembered what her and the dancers spent the last 10 minutes doing before she left. _oh I mean just, wanky._ With that, Santana silently reached down to her bag and pulled out a stack of thick cards, searching through them until she found what she was looking for.

"...and that's not even half of them, Santana. Don't get me started on Peter taaaaaaaaaaaaa- holy crap who is that, and where can I get one?!" Kurt snatched the photo that Santana had held up in front of his face. "This is going on my Christmas list." He continued as his fingers ran around the card.

"That, is Mr Brett Samuel Pierce." The smirk could practically be heard in Santana's tone.

"I completely understand your argument now." Kurt agree'd with a nod. "So give me his profile, c'mon, if he was on a dating website...well first off all he'd crash it, but what would his profile say. You go."

Santana paused for a moment and had a sip of her wine. "He's tall, like super tall, around maybe 6"3, 6"4 maybe? The blonde shaggy hair, blue eyes brighter than Nicki Minaj's hair. Abs that I swear I could grate cheese on. A voice that could make anyone orgasm within a 5 mile radius. Oh yeah, and he's a fucking ray of sunshine, like he's so sweet and funny."

"San, how do I say this," Kurt went silent to throw a wink at the waiter who had brought over their bill, waiting for him to go before continuing. "This sounds like you wanna do a bit more than bonk his brains out."

Santana snorted, because she's ever the lady, almost inhaling her wine up her nose. "Two things, first of all, shut up. And second, did you really just say the word...'bonk'?"

"Yeah! I learnt it when I was in England a few weeks ago, and I've been waiting for the perfect moment to use it! And whatcha know, I chose you're ass to grace it with."

"You're an asshole."

"Bitch, I'm fabulous."

-•-

"Sir, I'm afraid you can't leave your car parked like that!" A short fat man wearing am extremely odd hat complained to Brett who was helping his sister out the passenger seat of his car. The man was constantly tugging on his tie as he offered his other arm out to the female. Brett was unusually dressed up in black slacks, black dress shoes, and of course, shirt and tie. He hates being dressed as a penguin, as he calls it. But this is a fancy place so he at least makes the effort.

Brett's eyes widened before looking at the man, and back to his car, and back to the man. "What, why? I didn't hit anyone...did I?" Looking to his sister for reassurance, letting out a sigh on relief when she shook her head at him with a smile.

"Because it's the sidewalk, sir!" The man complained, staring at Brett as if he has two heads.

Just as Brett went to open his mouth and respond, a female replica of him walked up next to him and wrapped her arms around his nearest shoulder. "Brett, we really need to get in there, they won't hold our table!" The blonde whined out.

Brett had a quick look around the sidewalk before his eyes landed on a young boy on a skateboard, "Yo, kid! C'mere!" He yelled out, waiting for the young man too approach him. "Wanna earn 30 bucks? Park this around the corner in the park, ok?" The ginger lad nodded before quickly taking the money out of Brett's hand and hustling in the car.

"Ready?" Brett questioned when he turned to the blonde woman.

"Brett! You can't just give your car keys to a stranger!" She scolded.

"It'll be fine! People are nice!"

"Not everyone's like you, B! You really need to remember that, ok? Now c'mon, I'm starving!" Brett just nodded to the female before putting his arm around her shoulders.

-•-•-

Kurt was in the middle of letting Santana rant and rage about the recent thing her agent or someone like that told her, he's not sure, he tends to tune her out during rants like this. Well that was until a certain somebody caught his eye. Kurt squinted to be sure, subtlety looking down at the picture on cardboard he was still keeping in front of him. Confirming he was right, he winced, hating having to deal with Bitch Santana.

"Hey lady, are you even listening to me? I don't even know why I'm friends with you, I swear." Santana complained. With that, Kurt's eyes narrowed at her.

"Hey Santana, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that your future booty call by the front doors with his arm around a bombshell?"

Santana's head turned so fast, Kurt would swear she'd have whiplash.

"Oh hell no." The Latina muttered.

"San...please don't do anything embaressing. Please for the love of god."

Santana gasped in mock shock. "Me? Never! I won't even bother them!"

Kurt scowled at his friend, not believing a word she's saying. "So did I tell you about this hottie I met ove-"

"Brett?! What a surprise!" Santana greeted, once again using her bad acting skills. The blonde man paused where he was, turning around to see Santana before grinning.

"Hey, San!" He returned. Santana would never tell but him calling her San, made her stomach jump in all sorts of ways.

Santana now set her sights on the blonde that was with him. "Santana Lopez. And you are?"

The blonde female eyed Santana, well aware of the Latina trying to stare her down. "Kelly." She snapped.

Brett looked at the woman with his eyes wide, not understanding the frosty tone in her voice.

"Ummmm, yeah, my sister one a competition in school and one a voucher to this place, so that's why we're here. I mean, I know you didn't ask...but...y'know."

Santana fought the urge to smile at the blonde, enjoying his quirkiness.

"She must be a great sister if she's willing to miss out on this place." Santana commented.

Brett's face turned to one of confusion, "Miss out? But, she's right here? Kelly?" He questioned.

The brunette's face dropped. _oh that is just a great start. Be a bitch to a family member. Capital idea!_ "Sister?" She deadpanned.

Kelly chose this moment to jump in, a smug smile covering her face. "Yeah, Kelly Pierce. It's a...pleasure to meet you."

Santana could feel her dark skin attempting to blush. Embaresment covering her face. Kurt on the other hand, was loving it. A big Cheshire grin painted on his face.

"Oh this is better than Lifetime." He mumbled under his breath.

"Ummm yeah, you too." Santana eventually returned to the girl.

"Hey listen, Santana, I'd love to stay and talk but we really need to go to our table, the voucher only covers 2 hours upon arrival and I really can't afford to pay the full price here! So I'll see you at the studio tomorrow? Talk you through a few routines? Go to the gym?"

Santana nodded wordlessly and gave the pair a wave, pausing slightly to watch Brett and his perfect ass walk away.

Turning back to the table she could practically feel Kurt's eyes on her.

"Not a word."

Universe: 1. Santana: 0.

**So reviews could get a chapter up tomorrow, I'm just doing final touches to it, so y'know. Reviews are motivation. And yes, this is blackmail! **

**Let me know what you guys think!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Ok, Santana, game face. You messed up yesterday, but y'know what? So the fuck what. Just go in there, try and attempt to at least dance decently, and don't be a dick_. Santana took a deep breath outside the door to Studio two in South Medows. It's midday already so she was well aware she won't get too long to get one back against the universe.

Pushing the door open, she was immediately greated with a few hushed voices.

"It won't work if you put the step back there, but put it a few beats laters and it show flow better." She heard Mike say too a blonde sitting next to him on the studio floor.

Santana coughed slightly to alert the pair of her presence. Mike's head whipped around to see her. "Oh, Santana! Hey!"

"Hey mike...uhhhh, where is everyone?" The brunette questioned at the lack of dancers.

"It's just gonna be four of us today, we thought we'll do closed practices once a day for one routine until you have the basic hang of them, then we'll bring in the others? So, for now, Santana Lopez, this is Quinn Fabray. She's the female lead."

Santana offered her a friendly smile, "Hey."

"What's up?" Quinn Returned with a soft face.

"Wait, you said four? There's three of us?" Santana noted, crossing every part of her body it would be a certain blonde boy.

Quinn smirked at the question, knowing how obvious the brunette was. "Well, Brett is meant to be here, but he's late...as al-"

"I'M SORRY! I overslept! Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." Brett said, pronouncing each word with every step he took, throwing his bag too the side of the room.

A small smile covered Santana's face looking at the flustered blonde, liking how the saggy beanie he was wearing covered his hair perfectly, leaving a few stray bangs hanging out.

"Hey, Santana!" Brett puffed out as he joined the threesome in the middle of the room. _I wish it was a proper threesome. Or a twosome. As long as It involved, me, Brett, and some bodily functions._

"Hi." Santana returned with a grin.

"Thanks for joining us, Brett!" Mike joked. " Ok Santana, Brett knows the performances so we'll just go through it, bit by bit. We're gonna start off with Love You Like A Love Song, there's not too much really, just the chorus." Mike informed them as he walked to the stereo.

"Alright, it's basically the same few steps. Here's what the dancers will be doing. Brett?" Quinn looked at Brett, giving him the silent signal to demonstrate the small routine.

The only way Santana could describe Brett's dancing was mystifying. When he danced, he looked like he was in his element. His eyes glossed over, and his body moved fluidly.

Once Mike switched the music off the only sound that could be heard was the sound of Brett's breathing. _Holy crap, I'm gonna need to buy some new underwear for the next 8 months._

"Ummm, you won't be doing the whole of that...about 20 steps I think." Quinn told Santana.

Santana nodded along, not exactly looking forward to embaressing herself in front of Brett.

"Ok so, you'd have the mic in your left?" Mike paused to check with Santana, continuing once she confirmed. "You'll be about 5 steps in front of the dancers, so you'll step back to you're about a body in front of Brett."

Mike put his hands on her shoulders, "1, 2, 3, 4." He counted out, counting a step everytime her leading foot touched the ground.

Santana struggled to hold in a small gasp when she felt her ass just brush where Brett's hand was resting just in front of his body. _I think I came_.

"Then Brett's going to step behind you, and put his hands of your waste," _oh he can out his hands anywhere he wants. _Santana's skin tingled when she felt Brett's large hands touch the slither of skin on her waist in between her sweats and vest.

"Then both step your right legs out to the side..."

The next hour passed much like this; Santana trying not to jizz at the feel of Brett's body touching her, Santana trying not to trip over her own feet (she failed on that one), and last of all, Santana trying not to sweat too much because somehow she doesn't think that'll be the most attractive thing.

Santana walked to the side of the room, bending over to pick up her water bottle. Well aware that she could feel a set off eyes on her, and really, she can't blame them.

-•-

_C'mon man, it's just the gym! Grown a pair! Oh she's bending down. Oh that's her ass. Oh oh oh._ Brett found himself turning his head to the side, unable to move his eyes from the perfectly shaped ass of Santana Lopez.

Brett straightened up, and held his head high as he walked over to Santana. "Hey, ummm, San? The studio has a gym a few doors down...I was gonna spend some time and get a work out in...and I noticed you're pretty fit...not like I was looking...I mean, you're in good shape, so I thought maybe you'd like to join me?"

Santana let out a small laugh, liking how the blonde stutters over his words, but still seems so excitable. "You know what? That sounds great, lead the way!"

-••-

"...98, 99, 100!" Brett counted the last of his chin ups before letting go of the bar.

_Mother of sweet baby Jesus. God bless the abs god._ Santana could do nothing but check that she wasn't drooling out the side of her mouth. Brett had long took his shirt off when they started working out on the small weights. Santana's eyes straight away zoomed in on the mans defined 6 pack earned from years of training and dancing. Hell, Santana's pretty sure she could squeeze lemons on those things. Or limes. In fact screw the squeezing, Santana would take the juice and do a body shot.

"You're erm, you're really good at those." Santana mumbled out, mentally thanking his parents for his genes. Brett just smiled back, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "So, you said you'd show me how to use that thing, remember?" She pointed to the rowing machine, the other side of the gym.

"Oh right, yeah! C'mon," Brett let her lead their way to the machine, motioning for Santana to take a seat. "So basically, you need to pull this, the same time you push with your legs. And then eventually you're gonna start to feel a burn."

"It's not gonna be in my ass is it, because I like sitting down too much?" Santana dryly questioned.

Brett let out a laugh. "Ummm, no. You're gonna feel it from here," Brett placed his hand just below her shoulder, running it down the curves on her side. "To here," he brought his hands to her hips. Santana's breath hitched at the contact. Moving her gaze from watching Brett's hand run over her body, she shifted them to look above at her face, mouth opening slightly at the sight of bright blue eyes stirring back at her. "Then all the way to here." Brett continued running his large hand right down Santana's thigh and leg, right down to her calf. "And uhhh, yeah."

Brett was so close to Santana that she could feel his breath on her face, bangs dangling down to graze her forehead. He had his right hand next to her head, holding his weight, and his left hand was barely above her hip.

Out the corner of her eye, Santana could see his left hand coming up towards her face. Blue eyes flicking down to her lips, her own brown eyes returning the favour.

"...Santana...ca-"

"EY YO, PIERCE! My man, you in here?" A loud voice busted through, shocking Brett into standing up straight and taking a few steps back from Santana.

"Yeah, man? I'm here!" Brett responded running his hand through his hair.

_Well, fuck. Universe:2, Santana: 0_.

**So y'all were good to me, so here you go! **

**Also, snaps for all of you who got the parking thing with HeMo! Four for you. **

**By now you know the deal right? Reviews = quicker chapters!**

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